


The Ragged and Torn Pieces That Remain

by PaperandInk



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen, Hurt Varian (Disney), Mind Control, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, mind-controlled quirin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23869315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperandInk/pseuds/PaperandInk
Summary: Varian ends up having to face mind-controlled Quirin and the results aren’t pretty. Once the damage is done there is no mending the wounds.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 123





	The Ragged and Torn Pieces That Remain

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic a few weeks ago but then I got sick and couldn't edit it until recently. Its kinda dark so reader discretion is advised. I posted this first on my tumblr if you want to check me out there its: emerywrites

Using the stun mechanism on his dad meant that Varian had to run off to the infirmary to get some supplies. He needed some of the medicines from there that would keep his dad’s vitals steady for the duration of it being in use. The longer that he had to keep his dad unconscious the more likely it was that there could be complications. The thought terrified him but it had been the only way to ensure that the mindtrap wouldn’t interfere with their plans.

The infirmary was on the other side of the castle and the supplies he needed were harder to find than anticipated, leaving Varian frustrated and rushing back to the throne room. He ran clutching the bottles and medical instruments close to his chest. He dodged around black rocks that jutted up through the floor and tried to ignore the way that the castle periodically trembled from whatever battles were occurring.

Varian made it back to the throne room and burst through the door to find… everyone was gone, except for his dad. Quirin stood staunchly before the portal, his eyes glowing bright blue. A shiver went up Varian’s spine and he tried to back out of the room. But it was too late. Quirin saw him.

His dad charged him with a shout and Varian dropped the supplies in his arms. The bottles shattered and the instruments clattered loudly on the floor. For a moment he froze. This was his dad, his dad who had held him and comforted him, taught him and guided him… loved him. He had never fathomed being in a position where his mind would be screaming at him that his dad was a danger to him.

At the last possible second, Varian dove out of the way. He tumbled to the floor and scrambled back to his feet. “Dad!” he cried out. “Dad, please! It’s me—its Varian! Your son!”

“I have no son!” Quirin growled. “I am loyal only to Cassandra and the moonstone!”

He saw Quirin stalking toward him, and for the first time Varian acknowledged just how large his dad was. He was over six feet tall and was made of solid muscle from his years training for the brotherhood. Varian recalled how he had flown across the room when his dad had pushed him out of the way of the amber two years ago. He slowly backed away, looking around for something to defend himself with. His eyes raked over the room and he spotted the helmet, crushed and useless.

Quirin swung a fist at him and Varian managed to duck. “Dad! Dad, think about what you’re doing!”

“I am fighting for Cassandra!”

Another fist came at him and Varian dodged around him. He ran for the throne room door. If he could get out of there and hide then he wouldn’t have to fight his dad. He was more than willing to be a coward if he had to be. But then hands grabbed him by his shoulders and lifted him off of the ground. They were hands that Varian had only known to be gentle but now they were gripping him so tightly they were going to leave bruises. Quirin threw him across the room. He landed on an empty crate that had held parts for the portal.

The crate shattered from the force that he hit it with. Everything hurt and he was disoriented as he struggled to his feet.

“Dad,” he croaked out.

Then his dad was there again and Quirin’s fist collided with the side of Varian’s face. He crumpled and held where the blow had made contact with his jaw. Tears stung his eyes. He’d been punched before, by children his own age when they were play fighting as young children. He’d once even been slapped by an old woman in their village when he’d accidentally ruined her flower garden. But being struck by his dad was something that had never even crossed his mind. It felt like a betrayal. Varian had to remind himself that this was the mind control. His dad didn’t know what he was doing.

“Daddy… Dad, please stop.” He prayed that the pleading in voice would get through to his dad. His voice broke as he implored, “I’m your son.”

It wasn’t working. There was no sign of anything he said getting through. Quirin’s eyes glowed as vividly blue as they had the moment Varian entered the throne room. There was no other choice. He reached down and grasped at a piece of the broken crate. When Quirin pulled his arm back to take another swing, Varian stabbed the jagged end into his leg as hard as he could. Quirin cried out and stumbled back. He yelled in anger as he ripped the piece of wood out of his shin.

Varian made another run for the throne room doors. For a moment he thought that he would make it. Then his dad grabbed the back of his shirt holding him in place.

“No!” Varian’s heart pounded in his chest. He was scared. He was scared of his dad. The realization made something deep inside ache. “No! Let go!” He struggled and fought to get free. He unbuttoned his vest and slipped it off. There was only a couple of steps of freedom before Quirin grabbed him around his chest and lifted him off the ground again.

Once more Varian was flying through the air. This time he hit one of the tall, spiky, black rocks. His shoulder took the brunt of it and as he landed, he felt something shift painfully. Something was very wrong with his arm. He struggled to his feet again but didn’t know where to go. Another futile run for the door? Open the portal and let his dad get sucked through? Pick up one of the abandoned pitchforks to defend himself with? Give up? Varian sobbed as his mind reeled with option after option that would only hurt his dad.

Quirin came after him again and Varian scurried away, kicking a stray barrel into his path. There was an animal instinct clawing at him from the inside, screaming at him to escape the predator chasing him. It was like a game of chess, with every move Varian made to get away, Quirin seemed to get several strides closer. Then suddenly Varian realized that he was cornered against the black rocks.

Quirin laughed and it sounded nothing like his dad. Varian hated the sound. The mind-controlled brotherhood member that Varian no longer wanted to think of as his dad— _couldn’t_ think of as his dad—picked up a broken piece of wood debris as he got closer and closer. Varian tried to get away, using his good arm to push himself backward against the rocks. As they hit his back telling him there was nowhere else to go his insides went cold. Then Quirin swung.

Varian screamed.

* * *

When Quirin came back to his senses, he was standing over Varian. His son was cowering against the black rocks, sobbing as he held the right side of his face. “Varian?” He looked around for the culprit. Whoever had hurt his son would pay dearly.

But there was no one in sight.

He knelt down and reached forward to help. “Son, let me see.”

Varian only turned away, sobbing harder. “No! No! Get away!”

He was at a loss. With Varian so scared of whoever had hurt him, how was he supposed to help? “It’s me. It’s your dad. I’m here to help you.”

Quirin tried to reach for him again but Varian lashed out. He swung his fist out hitting Quirin in the side of the head. It barely hurt but it shocked him into a stunned silence. He wasn’t getting through to his son at the moment. Blood was dripping down from between Varian’s fingers as he whimpered, but there wasn’t a way to help him.

“Varian,” he said calmly. “I need to open the portal to let everyone back through. I’ll be right back.”

From the one eye he could see, it looked like Varian was finally acknowledging that it was his dad trying to help him and not the monster who had hurt him. He nodded slowly and Quirin went to open the portal. He limped as he went and wondered how he got the wound in his leg.

Once everyone was back through, Quirin ignored the cheers and cries of gratitude from friends and neighbors glad to be rescued from wherever they’d been taken. He went right back to his son. “Ready to let me help?”

“Its really you?” Varian asked in return.

Quirin frowned. “Of course its me.”

It took him only a moment longer to realize. Memories came rushing back—fighting Eugene and Edmund alongside Hector… guarding the portal… attacking Varian. It was awful to relive the flashes of events. He’d felt proud of himself for hurting anyone who stood against Cassandra. He’d been pleased to see the fear and pain in his son’s eyes. He wanted to throw up. He’d hurt his son… and he’d enjoyed it.

Varian pulled his hands away from his face, revealing the wound. It was awful. Quirin cried. He had done this to his son.

* * *

Varian stared in the mirror. Everyone was going to celebrate at the castle. The battle was over and Cassandra was going to be leaving on her adventure. Meanwhile, he found himself unable to leave that moment. His arm was in a sling and a bandage was secured over his eye. The doctor had told him that it would never fully heal. The cut had been deep enough that it had permanently damaged the nerves. It was going to scar but Varian was already working on a salve to minimize it. But there were scars he could never erase. He couldn’t escape the feeling that he wasn’t fully safe with his dad. He had nightmares about the jagged piece of wood coming at his head.

“Son?”

Varian jumped and whipped around to see his dad poking his head into the room. He swallowed hard and tried to calm himself. It was no use. It was clear from the guilt in his dad’s eyes that he saw how scared Varian was.

Quirin cleared his throat and looked away. “Sorry. I was checking if you’re ready to go.”

“Yeah.” His voice came out in a squeak and he winced but said nothing more. He walked to the door, Ruddiger following behind.

* * *

Varian was riding in the back of the cart as they approached the castle. The closer they got, the further he found himself getting lost in the memory of that moment—the wood debris coming at him—“Dad!”

The cart stopped in the middle of the road. Others on their way to the castle had to go around them. Quirin turned to look at him, eyes wide with concern. “What is it, son?”

He hesitated, breath coming in gasps as he tried to figure out why he had called out for his dad.

“Varian?” His dad’s voice was surprisingly steady. It shouldn’t have been surprising though. In the three days since the battle with Zhan Tiri his dad had had to quickly adapt to Varian’s nightmares, flashbacks, and mood swings. Varian was pretty sure that Quirin’s guilt had a lot to do with his ever-enduring patience.

It took another minute before Varian figured out what it was, he wanted. “I don’t want to go to the celebration.” He climbed out of the back of the cart, careful to not aggravate his arm. “You go ahead. I think I need some time alone.”

“Are you sure? We can go home.”

“I’m sure. I want to walk around for a bit and see how the rebuilding is coming along.”

Quirin sighed. “Okay. I’ll come to check on you in an hour.”

He forced a smile and waved with his good hand. “Sounds good.”

When his dad was out of sight Varian walked into town. It was completely deserted as Coronans were heading to the castle. He went to sit down on the edge of the fountain that stood in the middle of town. It was calming to listen to the rushing water, even letting his fingertips dip in for a moment. But then he caught his reflection in it.

He tried to slow his breathing but it only got worse as his breaths turned into sobs and he doubled over. Why couldn’t he just be happy that it was all over? Why couldn’t he force himself to push away that memory?

“Why am I the only one with lasting damage?”

He knew the answer to his own question of course. He wasn’t on the battlefield when they were fighting Zhan Tiri. He stayed in the throne room with his father watching over him. None of the incantations reached them. While that meant the decay incantation didn’t touch them, it also meant he couldn’t get the benefit of the healing one. So, his injuries remained, terrible reminders of just how cruel fate could be.

The sound of a horse’s hooves hitting the ground in a slow, steady pattern caused him to look up. It was Fidella carrying Cassandra who was too busy looking around at the buildings to notice the lone figure sitting at the fountain.

Varian got to his feet and thought about bolting. He didn’t want to see her. He’d thought with her leaving it would be easy to avoid. But then their eyes met.

Cassandra lightly pulled on the reins with a soft “Woah.” Fidella came to a halt and she climbed down.

“Hey, Varian.” Her voice was small, sounding nothing like her.

He looked away, swallowing hard. What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to pretend that she hadn’t caused him the worst pain imaginable, that she hadn’t caused a permanent rift between him and his father, that she hadn’t ruined his life?

“Hey.”

She took a step forward and reached out to touch his shoulder. Fortunately, she thought better of it and let her hand fall short of making contact. “I’m sorry.” She paused and let out a wry laugh. “That sounds so stupid. Sorry? I hurt you so badly. I… I don’t know what I could possibly say, Varian. I just… I am so sorry.”

His good hand clenched into a fist at his side. It did sound stupid. She put his dad under mind control and made him into a puppet that was willing to attack his own son… all for Cassandra. “I tried to help you,” he began. It was a simple statement but one that he wanted to make sure she heard and internalized. He hadn’t been willing to give up on her in the beginning. He’d cared about her and didn’t want things to go as far as she had taken them.

“I reached out to you.” His voice was getting progressively louder now. He wasn’t meaning to, but something inside him was building, some emotion that he couldn’t place. It wasn’t exactly anger or hurt or sadness. “I was the one person who understood!” He was shouting. His voice echoed in the empty street. It felt good. She was the one person he could blame and this time he wasn’t just trying to push the blame off of himself. He’d done nothing wrong. “You made my dad hurt me! He never did anything to you! And now… Now we can’t even look at each other. I flinch every time he comes near me.”

Tears were running down her face. Varian wanted to feel righteous. She felt bad and it was only fair that she did. It didn’t change anything though. Why couldn’t finally saying it all out loud fix it?

“I have nightmares about it—about him hurting me!” More. Maybe if he yelled some more, something inside him would change. Maybe then he could place what he was feeling. “My eye is never going to heal! My dad is broken because of you! Nothing is going to be the same for me!” Truth after truth came tumbling out and maybe it wasn’t just one emotion, maybe it was all of them mixed up together: anger, pain, humiliation, hatred…

Cass was sobbing into her hands. But it wasn’t working. He was crying now too. The tears from his good eye were running down his cheek but the tears from his other eye were just dampening the bandage. He’d have to change it when he got home.

“I just want my life back!” He wasn’t shouting, now he was screaming. Were the words even words anymore? “I want my dad back! Give it back!”

Cass was on the floor and her hands were covering her ears. She was still crying and it still didn’t make him feel any better. “I can’t!” she yelled back. “I can’t!”

Varian collapsed to the ground in front of her. He felt numb. Nothing was going to change. No matter how much he yelled… his dad was still broken… and so was he.

Then he noticed that she was wearing the Cassandrium. She had kept it. She felt like she had the right to wear it.

Anger. That was all he felt. How dare she think that she had the right to wear the symbol of their friendship.

He reached out and ripped the necklace from her. She didn’t react except for her eyes widening.

Varian slowly got up. He threw the Cassandrium into the fountain and walked away.


End file.
